The Sea Devil: Pirates of Britannia: Lords of the Sea

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The Sea Devil: Pirates of Britannia: Lords of the Sea Page 10

by Knight, Eliza


  “Done. Ye can borrow the Leucosia.” Shaw flicked a glance at Constantine, mirth in the depths of his eyes that Thor was certain their English brethren did not pick up on. Thor held his tongue, convinced that Shaw being so willing to part with a beautiful ship was not just out of the goodness of his heart, but also part of some bigger scheme. “Con gifted me with it as a thanks for seeing him married to Gregg.”

  “Nay, you cannot allow him to use the Leucosia.” Constantine’s expression was blank. “You’ve only just received the vessel. ’Twould be a shame to part with it so soon. I’ll give him use of one of my ships.”

  “Nonsense,” Shaw argued, the merriment in his eyes increasing. “The Leucosia is perfect. I’d not yet found a purpose for her, and it seems only natural that she should be used to exact revenge on a mutual enemy.”

  Constantine made a choking sound. “I’m afraid I must insist, MacDougall.”

  Thor raised a brow. Con only used Shaw’s clan name when he meant serious business. What was the deal with the galley?

  Shaw slammed a fist down on the table, unsettling the ale mugs, tipping one to the floor and spilling its contents. “Who are ye to tell me or my men what ship they can use? Ye gave up the Leucosia. She’s mine, and she’ll be used however I see fit.”

  Thor sat back and waited as the argument quickly escalated to the two men scrapping it out on the floor, curses hanging on the ends of their flying fists. The two pirates had a longstanding relationship that often came to blows, but their battles only seemed to strengthen the bond between them. Thor wished he knew what the hell was going on with the bloody Leucosia. Why was Shaw so insistent on Thor using it, and Con so insistent that he not?

  At this rate, Thor could simply take the Leucosia and be on his way before either of the stubborn bastards noticed. After another cup of ale, and the men taking bets on who would win, the two of them finally fell apart, blood trickling from each of their lips and knuckles. They lay on their backs breathing hard and glaring daggers at one another.

  Thor stood, kicked his chair back under the table and crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at the two of them as though they were wayward children. “If the two of ye are finished, I’d like to continue discussing my plans.”

  They groaned, and Con stood and reached down to help Shaw up. “You know, don’t you?” Con asked.

  Shaw grinned like a fool. “Aye. The Leucosia is that stolen Spanish ship, the Astorga. And that’s why I think it would be perfect for Thor to use her.”

  Con snickered. “Why did ye not say so?”

  Thor’s mouth fell open as he stared at the two men who spoke as though he, along with the others in the brethren, were not in the room.

  “Your head was shoved too far up your arse for ye to have listened.” Shaw clapped Con on the back.

  “I was hoping the jest would last a little longer.” Con frowned. “I’ve not been here more than two days.”

  Now it was starting to make sense.

  Both Con and Shaw continually played cruel jests on each other, and the ship was just another of their wicked tricks. If one didn’t know better, you might think the men were enemies, but their support and friendship ran deep. They were brothers in every sense of the word, save for sharing a lineage. Right down to the dirty tricks they played on one another.

  “Ye must think me a great fool if ye thought I wouldna realize ye’d not just give me any ship.”

  Con laughed. “No greater fool than you must have thought me when you gifted me the world’s tiniest sword.”

  “Well, ye know what they say about a man’s sword.” Shaw punched Con in the chest.

  Con rubbed the spot and frowned, muttering, “Gregg would beg to differ with ye.”

  “Och,” Shaw snorted, “’tis only because she’s never had a real man.”

  Before they started to punch each other again, Thor stepped between them. “My plans, ye scurvy pirates, can we get back to them?”

  “Selfish bastard,” Shaw teased. “What can we do to help?”

  “I’m headed to Puerto de los Dioses. Santiago will be expecting me.”

  “That’s a bad idea.” Con shook his head. “If any of those pirates stepped foot into our territory we’d gut them.”

  “Aye. This is true,” Thor mused.

  “What makes ye think he will not do the same? Ye think because ye have his castoff he’ll not fire on our ships?” Shaw shook his head. “Ye’re smarter than this Thor. Ye’re letting your anger get in the way of your sound mind.”

  Thor ran his hands through his hair and suppressed a frustrated growl. He knew Shaw was right. There’d been a few times when their entire fleet had been able to sneak up on an enemy’s port and take them out, but there was a reason Santiago was still a problem. He was smart. And he would never allow them to get close enough.

  “We’ll have to draw him out.”

  “How do ye propose we do that?” Shaw asked.

  Con poured them all another round of ale.

  “Got anything stronger?” Thor asked.

  Shaw grinned. “Con’s given up anything stronger than ale for a wee bit.”

  “And why’s that?” Thor asked.

  Con groaned and rolled his eyes. “Shaw saw fit to send a special batch my way.”

  “I dinna even want to know what was in that.” Thor looked into his mug.

  “Let’s just say whale isna cheap.” Shaw let out a mighty guffaw that had Con threatening to pummel him all over again.

  “Listen, I’ve got a lass upstairs who is the daughter of my greatest enemy. If the two of ye canna get it together enough to help me, I’m going to help myself.”

  Shaw frowned, all seriousness coming into his countenance. He was the prince of the Devils of the Deep, the leader of their pirate faction, heir to the pirate king. While Thor was often candid with his mate, he’d never been so blunt as to say he’d go off on his own. They were brothers, had been since they were lads, when Thor himself had been fished out of the tide and given a position in their brethren.

  “I know,” Shaw said softly. “We’re with ye, brother.”

  “Aye,” Con agreed.

  “Then this is how ’twill go down.”

  * * *

  Alesia sprawled on her back on a bed, having spent most of the evening with Jane and Gregg, only coming down to the main area of the tavern for supper. Thor, Shaw and Con had not been within the tavern, and while her two new friends looked concerned, neither of them voiced it.

  Friends. Aye, for that was what they’d become. After Jane had caught Alesia crying, she and Gregg had set about making it their personal mission to make Alesia happy and comfortable, which included sharing the adventures of their past, brushing and plaiting each other’s hair, spying out the window when they heard a bawdy song, and then giggling when Alesia told them what some of the words meant. The entire concept of friendship was new to her, but she relished it, cherished it and already dreaded what would happen when she had to leave.

  They’d eaten quietly, each of them lingering a little too long over their meals until the brethren pirates started to fall over drunk on the tables—and yet there were still no signs of the three men they were been waiting for.

  Alesia had continued to peek toward the wooden door, but it had remained firmly shut. Not even a servant had gone in or out. If they were in there, they were shut in. But she had a feeling that the men were not within. They had gone somewhere. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, or where the feeling stemmed from, but it was there all the same.

  Jane had led Alesia upstairs and showed her to a bedchamber similar to the one they’d been in earlier. It was small but cozy with two chairs before a hearth, a small bed piled high with plaid blankets and a side table. The difference here was that the sideboard was not laden with crystal, and there was no chest full of clothes, nor a screen to dress behind. All the same, it was the first chamber Alesia could claim as her own—even if it was temporary.

  Jane and Gre
gg had said goodnight, leaving Alesia for the night. She’d undressed, donning the night rail Jane had given her, and slipped under the blankets. But sleep did not come. She was worried about Thor. About Santiago. About her future.

  She’d been so certain about what she wanted, but now…now she wasn’t.

  The tavern had quieted, and so had the banter outside her window. The gentle lapping of waves whisked through the shutters. The fire in the hearth had long since died down to embers, but the moon filtered through the slats of the window casing, casting wide silver shafts of light all around her.

  Alesia had rarely slept a night indoors, and even more rarely in a bed. She could probably count on one hand the number of times a mattress had softened the way for her bones to rest. She was too comfortable. Aye, too comfortable, if that were possible. She wasn’t used to it. Maybe that was why she couldn’t sleep. Tossing off the covers, she crept to lie before the glowing embers in the fire, curling onto her side and staring at the orange glow. She tugged a blanket over her, unable to get warm ever since she’d gone into the water earlier that day. The water itself had not been so cold, but that had been the turning point between her and Shaw. Not the kisses they’d shared, or the secrets, but that playful blowback and then the guilt he’d felt over it.

  What could be more evident than the fact that she hadn’t stolen away as soon as the sounds in the tavern deadened? They were still in Scotland. On the coast. She didn’t even need to steal a ship to get away. Climbing up the cliff would be difficult, but she’d scaled buildings in the city before. One could do great things when they put their mind to it.

  Alesia rolled onto her back, flopping an arm over her eyes and breathing out a sigh.

  How many nights had she slept in an alley with snow falling on her head—flakes melting against her skin and freezing on her eyelashes. Now here she was in the warmth of a tavern and longing for that snow, if only to feel…normal. If only Thor were here. Despite how he turned her upside down inside, she felt like she could be herself around him.

  Besotted, she was, aye, but also… she thought it might be something more than that. Was this what love felt like? When one loved another, could they be themselves?

  “Where are ye?” she whispered, voicing the thoughts that had been running rampant in her mind all night. Oh, she hated that she cared. She’d made several friends on this journey, but there was only one face that kept her awake at night. She shivered, rubbing her hands over her thighs trying to warm up her skin.

  “Why are ye on the floor?”

  Alesia startled, looking toward the window to see Thor climbing through. She hadn’t even heard him open the shutters.

  “What are ye doing?” she gasped, clutching a blanket around herself as though she were naked—which she was not.

  Thor grinned, the moonlight shining on his pearly white teeth. “Climbing through your window.”

  “I can see that, but why?”

  “Tavern was locked.”

  “And how did ye know this was my window?”

  “Lucky guess.” He chuckled at the same time she snorted. “Truthfully, I didna.” His boots hit the floor as he landed, and she was again mesmerized by how tall and broad he was. Instantly, a feeling of warmth settled in her bones—the warmth she’d been searching for.

  But that didn’t matter, she still had to keep up her façade of shock and pique, wasn’t that the game they played? “So ye’d climb through just anyone’s window?”

  “Och, nay, lass, only yours.”

  Alesia cocked her head to the side. “What if it had been Shaw or Con’s wives?”

  He shrugged. “They knew which windows belonged to their wives.”

  “Ye asked?”

  “To be sure, lass. I’d not want to be a dead man.”

  She raised her brows and leaned back on her elbows. “Well, get out now that ye’re in.”

  Thor ignored her, sitting down on a chair and tugging off his boots.

  “Put your boots back on, ye vagrant. I didna invite ye into my bed.”

  Without looking up, he pulled off his hose. “But it’s perfectly vacant as ye’ve found a place on the floor.”

  She glowered at him, sitting back up to cross her arms over chest.

  “Have ye warmed up yet from your unfortunate bath earlier?” There was laughter in his tone that she found amusing but also irritating. After tossing his hose, he leaned back in the chair, engulfing the piece of furniture and all but making it disappear.

  Alesia swallowed. “As a matter of fact, I have, no thanks to ye.” As if to emphasize the lie, another great shiver took her.

  Unlacing the ties of his shirt, he slowly revealed his muscled chest to the moonlight, to her. A sprinkling of gold hair covered the corded flesh. He reached behind him and yanked the fabric over his head. Alesia couldn’t help but stare at the wide expanse of his chest. If he looked that good in the moonlight, she could only imagine what he might look like during the day with the sun shining golden on his chest.

  “Shall I light a candle, love? All the better to see me with.”

  “Ugh.” She huffed and rolled back toward the banked fire.

  His footsteps vibrated the wood beneath her, but instead of heading toward the bed, they drew closer to her until she could feel him standing just behind her. She refused to look, as she was certain this was another trick of his, an egotistical trick to be certain.

  Next thing she knew, the heat of his bare chest pressed to her back as he enveloped her in his arms. Oh God, but the warmth of him was sweet heaven. She had to bite her tongue to keep from moaning at the sheer pleasure of it, and she squeezed her eyes shut since she couldn’t seem to blink. It was a good thing she had her teeth biting the tip of her tongue, for she was close to asking if he was drunk. No other reason for him to lie here with her this way came to mind, but she detected no scent of alcohol on his breath as he sighed near the back of her head. That slight gush of air scent a shiver cascading over her—and not because she was cold.

  “What in blazes are ye doing, pirate?” she hissed.

  A low rumble in his chest wound its way around her middle, tickling its way through her veins. “Keeping ye warm.”

  “I’ve a blanket for that.”

  The jerking movement behind her made her think he’d shrugged.

  “Am I not allowed to hold ye, lass?”

  “Nay!” She stiffened.

  “Why not?”

  “Why would ye? I’m not your woman.”

  “But ye could be.”

  “One kiss, Thor, that was all we shared.”

  “I believe ’twas two kisses. And they were both verra delicious kisses, were they nay? Perhaps not, since ye didna remember one of them.”

  Heat flamed her face. They were both indeed delicious kisses. Ones she’d found herself daydreaming about more often than she ought to. But nay. This was not how it could be. Whenever she was near him, her mind and her heart became all jumbled up with ideas she shouldn’t have. And even when he wasn’t there, they still did the same.

  There was nothing for it. Alesia needed to stick to her plan, or else she’d see her heart broken. And considering she thought she might love him, leaving him here would make it painful all the more. But it was better than the alternative—hanging from the gibbet—wasn’t it?

  The fact that she couldn’t even answer that made her bite her lip.

  Clearly, she had to leave. Loving Thor would be dangerous for them both.

  She still had to plan her escape, and if she were to allow him to continue whatever it was he was doing, she was certain to change her mind by convincing herself there was more to it than there truly could be. Her head started to hurt with the jumble of thoughts once more attempting to make their case.

  His arm held her tighter, as though he could hear her thoughts.

  “I’ll not ravage ye unless ye ask,” he crooned. “’Haps it is I who is cold.”

  “Build up the fire then and get into the bed. Pile o
n a thousand blankets if ye must, but leave me to my peace.” Her voice choked on the last word. Peace was foreign to her. Except now with his arms around her. Again, the forbidden tempted her to hope.

  “That is the thing, my wee rat. I canna seem to leave ye.” He sighed, his fingers tracing a circle on her belly that had her sucking in a breath. “So where does that leave me?”

  “Lonely.”

  He chuckled, again the rumbling of his chest to her back marking her. “Och, Miss Baird, but have I told ye how much ye amuse me?”

  Her heart did a little flip. “I canna imagine that I care.”

  “But ye do.” He gripped her wrist, pressing his fingers to her pulse point. “I can feel it.”

  She yanked her wrist away, annoyed that he’d been able to figure her out. “I am more than my baser instincts. Unlike some people in this chamber.”

  “So ye admit it.” There was more than a hint of humor in his tone.

  “Of course. I’m not so mysterious.”

  There was a long pause, and she swore his heart thudded harder against her back. And then he murmured against her ear, “Let me pleasure ye.”

  Well… Her throat went dry. It seemed every nerve in her body leapt toward him, shouting aye. But nay. She could not. Even if she wanted to desperately. She was falling too deep for Thor. Way too deep. Too late, she made the mistake of pushing her backside roughly against him in an attempt to shake him off, but he only groaned and clutched her tighter.

  “Careful, lass.”

  “Go away.”

  “If that is what ye truly wish. But some days from now, we will part, and I shall never see ye again. Let us make a memory together.”

  He made a convincing argument. In fact, she’d used the very same one. Which only bolstered her decision to deny him. “Do ye know how many times I’ve heard a sailor or pirate say that to a whore in Edinburgh?”

  He was silent for a few moments as that sank in, and then he shifted away from her a little. “So does that mean ye wish to role play?” His tone had grown lighter, teasing. And despite what he was suggesting—or the lack thereof—she couldn’t help but smile.

 

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